


Stand By Me

by AmberZ10



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Catwoman (Comics), Fried Green Tomatoes (1991), Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics), Stand By Me (1986)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Meddling Kids, Stephen King - Freeform, Time Jump, fried green tomatoes - Freeform, goonies, stand by me au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberZ10/pseuds/AmberZ10
Summary: A missing cat leads a group of friends on a life-altering adventure, one they can never forget. Or escape.





	1. Chapter 1

I've always been fascinated by the concept of cause and effect. How everything has a beginning. It's own start. Its own origin story. Not just people, but events too. Historic occasions or every day occurrences. Every single action. Every…altercation. Everything grows from some seed planted some time somewhere by somebody.

I can't tell if I was the one to plant this particular seed, or if this story's origins are rooted somewhere deeper. I guess they have to be. I mean, I suppose, really, the root of this particular occurrence can be traced back to bad parenting. But then again, isn't that always the case? When you get right down to it, isn't it always because someone's mommy didn't love them enough? Or maybe she left and their daddy hit them?

Evil is always born from either evil itself, or neglect. And Jack Kerr was so evil, he must'a been born from both.

But I guess bringing up Jack Kerr is jumping the gun a little. If I'm gonna tell this story properly, I'll have to start at the beginning.

Well…the beginning as near as I can tell. My beginning. I'm sure everyone involved has told it a million different ways, and start in all varieties of beginnings, and I'm sure they're all plenty interesting. But if you're asking me for mine…well here it goes.

I was 13 in the year 1959, living in Castle Rock, Virginia. It was a small town. So small we had one doctor and no hospital, and two teachers for the whole dang school. Everybody knew everybody, and so everybody knew everybody's business.

…which is why we all knew Jack Kerr was a bad apple.

But again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

My story starts in the early summer of 1959. In Castle Rock, Virginia. With a cat.

Or a lack thereof, I should say.

At 13 years old, my two best friends were named Selina Kyle and Pamela Isley. They were as different as can be and I was nothing like either one of 'em. It didn't always make sense, our friendship, but then again, we didn't have a lot of options, so we never questioned it.

Selina was from the big city and she didn't have any parents, both of which made her seem very exotic. She'd never had parents, according to her. Couldn't remember her mom if she tried. She once told me she'd had a sister, but they hadn't gone to the same place after whatever happened happened, so Selina had been on her own for a while. She was traveling the country at 10, riding boxcars from town to town and finding food where she could. That was, until the state got her. After that, she got shipped to Castle Rock where Old Man Pennyworth took her in. I never heard her call him anything but "Alfred", so I wouldn't describe him as her father, but I know he did eventually legally adopt her, and she still calls him on Sundays.

Selina was whip smart, with sharp green eyes, shaggy black hair, and the most un-godly mouth this side of the Mississippi.

If Selina was the ring leader, and I was the wild card, then Pam Isley was the unwitting accomplice.

The whole town thought she was a little off. Pam, that is. Her parents didn't let her outside much. Really only for church and school. Not because they were especially cruel, I don't think, but because Pam had some sorta weird disease. The longer she stayed out in the sun, the greener her skin would become. It was the strangest thing. Inside, if she wore long sleeves, thick pants and a sunhat, she could stay looking mostly human. Just real pale. But as soon as her skin hit the sun, she would turn this sickly looking green. Needless to say, this didn't make her very popular. And she was mad a lot because of it. Mad at the other kids for their cruelty, mad at her parents for forcing her indoors when all she wanted was to work in her garden, and mad at god for cursing her.

That's what she told Selina and I her parents had said about it. That God had cursed her. Payback for some sin she hadn't yet committed. My family didn't go to church, so I thought that was absolutely bonkers, but what did I know.

They brought a fancy doctor over from somewhere on the coast to take a look at her. He stayed for a while. A couple months, actually, and Pam didn't even go to school while he was there. Just church. And when he left, it seemed like Pam was even angrier. Not because he was gone. No, she was thrilled about that. But something was different about her. More than mad or sad, it was like there were cracks in her now. Cracks she filled with rage, not just frustration.

Selina seemed to understand the change better than I did. They'd have silent conversations that I couldn't interpret. Brief, quiet glances that would communicate their secrets.

I didn't have any secrets. I lived my life out loud and I think they needed that.

Or…I'm not sure what they needed. After all, I was the one that got us into all this trouble in the first place, so maybe they'd have been better off without me.

The cat that started it all belonged to Selina, though, so maybe she would'a been roped into this mess anyway. Who knows. See, this is the whole cause and effect thing I was talking about. Who's to say fate has only one path.

Selina's cat went missing on May 13th. I remember this because I was 13 at the time and I thought this had to be some kinda sign. The cat's name was Isis, and Isis was one of many pets that had gone missing from Castle Rock in recent months. Selina was absolutely beside herself with grief. There was nothing and no one she loved more than that cat.

"I brought her with me all the way from Gotham," she'd sobbed. "She never ran away, even when the trains got bumpy."

"I guess she finally decided to," Pam shrugged, staring absently out the cafeteria window.

"Screw you, Pam!" Selina shoved her. "Isis would never!"

I'd hated this conversation because I was pretty sure I knew exactly where Isis was. I knew because, as I said, Isis hadn't been the first animal to disappear, and I knew she wouldn't be the last, either.

He was just starting to get good at it.


	2. Chapter 2

I wasn’t afraid of Jack Kerr.

At least, not at first.

The Kerrs had always lived in Castle Rock. The whole family, born and bred. One day, though, when Jack was little, his mama up and left. Everybody knew it was cuz she couldn’t stand another moment living with his daddy, but if you’d asked Jack, he’d have said it was because she was a worthless slut. Jack wasn’t terribly creative with his insults.

Everyone knew his daddy hit him too. Did worse than that, probably, and there was nothing much anyone could do about it. Jack was too proud to let anyone know he was hurting. So he just kept getting hurt until he broke, and when he broke, he broke wide open.

Jack was a year older than me, but in Castle Rock, it didn’t really matter. Everyone school-aged basically got lumped together anyway. On the odd occasion that he showed up to school, Jack was in all my classes. He was loud and disrespectful. Rude, in every sense of the word. To the teachers and the other students—boys, girls, it didn’t matter.

Pam was one of his favorite targets. He used to spit at her when they passed in the halls or on the street. Called her a freak, among other things. Pam never said a word back to him. She kept her head held high and just kept walking. As proud as he was and far braver. And anyway, Jack Kerr was the least of her problems back then. Pamela suffered from a million other injustices on a day to day basis. Jack and his taunts were more of a nuisance to her than an actual threat.

That’s how I wanted to think of him too—a nuisance to simply ignore—, but I’m ashamed to say that at 13, I was intrigued by Jack Kerr. In a little town where nothing ever happened, he was a big personality, and always happening. Looking back, I hate myself for even entertaining him. I knew he had a thing for me, heck, everyone did. Pam sure did, and so did Selina. But that didn’t stop me.

What did stop me, finally, was his refrigerator.

Jack thought of himself as a scientist. Not the smart kind, not the kind who enjoyed even the most mundane biology lessons, like Pam did. No, Jack considered himself a mad scientist. He thought a lot of things were funny that simply…weren’t. And I spent far too long trying to get the joke, I’ll admit that.

But his refrigerator was no laughing matter, and I never pretended it was. Even at 13, I knew where to draw the line, and this was my line.

From my understanding, he didn’t lug it all the way out there from town, that would have required super-human strength. He told me he found it out there, and that it was in just the perfect spot, because no one could hear his test subjects bark or meow from inside. Not when the fridge was nearly 8 miles into the forest. He must have moved it after he’d shown me, though, knowing—just from the look of horror on my face—that he hadn’t been playing to the right audience. But it couldn’t have gone far. A fridge was heavy. A fridge full of animals in various stages of decay even more so.

I knew that if I was going to speak up, it had to be right then because if Isis had only disappeared that morning, there was a high chance she was still alive. Jack didn’t like to kill anything right away. He liked to watch them suffer. His sadistic ways allowed for a moment of weakness, but we’d have to act right then.

“Nobody’s seen her.” Bruce Wayne sat down at the table next to us. “I’m sorry, Selina. We can put up posters, if you want, maybe she’ll turn up.”

“She won’t,” I said, my voice quiet. “Not unless we rescue her.”

All eyes turned to me—even Harvey Dent’s, and he rarely paid attention unless Bruce was talking.

Bruce straightened up, electing himself voice of the others. “What do you mean, Harley?”

I toyed with the crust on my bread. “I think…I think Jack Kerr’s got her. Out in the woods.”

“That rat bast—,”

“Harvey, shut up,” Selina quieted him immediately. “What do you mean Kerr’s got her, Harl?”

I cleared my throat. “I mean, Jack takes animals sometimes, and he…plays, with them. I’ve seen him do it. Makes me sick thinkin’ about it, but I’m sure he took her. Probably brought her out deep in the woods. I know where,” I quickly assured. “Well…basically. I can show ya, but we gotta leave now.”

Pam scoffed at the ridiculous notion of leaving school early. “We still have two periods left!”

Selina shot out of her chair. “Isley, you fuckin’ stiff, Isis is in trouble! You heard her, we gotta go now!”

Bruce stood up too, already grabbing his backpack from beside his chair. I’m sure it was more out of loyalty to Selina than Isis, but Bruce was clearly in.

Bruce was always in. That was the wonderful thing about him. His daddy owned the main store in town plus the only hotel, so the Wayne’s were by far the richest family in Castle Rock, but Bruce didn’t seem to care or notice. He was Jack’s age, but was a good boy who I knew would become a good man. A boy with a strong sense of justice, and an even stronger sense of faith. Not in any god, necessarily, but in himself and in the people he loved. And man oh man did he love Selina.

“Pam shouldn’t come anyway,” Harvey decided, also pushing his chair back from the table to stand. “Her parents would probably phone The National Guard.”

_Oof, bad move, Harv._

Pam was visibly upset, I could see it in the way she angrily tossed her red hair as she stood to challenge him. “You won’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Harvey Dent. I’m my own woman, and I won’t stand for your nonsense.”

Harvey rolled his eyes (they did this a lot). “You’re 14, Pam, and sick. Taking you would just slow us down.”

“Wait a minute, who invited _you_?” Selina interjected, suddenly turning on Harvey. “Pam’s my friend and Isis is my cat. I choose the rescue party and I choose her.”

“No, no, we need Harvey,” Bruce said, taking Selina’s hand in his to calm her. “In case Jack shows up and things get hairy.”

Pam obviously didn’t like the reasoning or the decision, but Selina nodded and it was made.

“Then we’ll all go,” Selina summarized. “How far is it, Harl?”

“At least 8 miles,” I told her, the last to stand. “Probably closer to 10 now, I’m not exactly sure. We’ll need some water. And food.”

Selina nodded again, looking to Bruce. “Can you get supplies from the store?”

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, setting his jaw. “Everyone, bring your bags. I’ll meet you around back.”

And so it was decided.

We were going on an adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

We crouched behind the Wayne family store. Me, Pam, Selina and Harvey. Why we were crouching, I can’t remember. Wasn’t like we were stealing or anything. Bruce was the only one inside and he would never take anything without paying. Besides, his family owned the store, so it really didn’t matter either way.

But in any case, we waited in nervous silence, all stressed for different reasons. Selina’s hands were twisting in the hem of her shirt, clearly thinking about her cat. Harvey’s eyes were darting about the alley, as even the idea of doing something unlawful gave him hives. Pam was pulling her sunhat down as far as she could over her ears and tugging at the cuffs of jacket with her gloved hands. How Pam could stand to wear all that clothing in this heat, I had no idea, but I’d known her my whole life and had never seen any of her skin below her neck. She was on high alert, baking under the unrelenting sun. I was sitting with my back against the store, my attention alternating between my friends and the dirt. I remember feeling real guilty about this whole thing. Wishing I’d told somebody about Jack’s refrigerator earlier. But honestly, I was scared, and wasn’t totally sure if killing animals was against the law anyway, so I’d just tried my best to forget about it.

This was my reckoning.

I wasn’t the smartest member of the group. Not even close. Wasn’t the richest either. Or the most interesting. Wasn’t the most anything. But if I could lead this journey, if I could help bring back Isis safe and sound, I could be a hero for once.

Bruce rounded the corner with two grocery bags. “Alright. I’ve got enough food to last us today and tomorrow, just in case we have to camp out.”

“No, no, I can’t camp out,” Pam was quick to protest. “My parents would never let me go outside again.”

“They’re gonna put a padlock on your door the minute you don’t come home from school, Pam,” Selina reasoned. “A few extra hours or even an extra day isn’t gonna make it any worse. Let’s go.”

Bruce stuffed the food into his pack, and he Selina and Harvey started for the main road. Pam stayed behind, paralyzed, it seemed.

“Hey…” I moved closer to her, keeping my voice low. “It’s OK, Pammy. Like I said, it’s only 8 miles. We’ll be back by tonight.”

Pam looked at me, real fear in her eyes, and said, “Do you swear?”

“I swear.”

“Swear on your mother’s name even if it means she goes to hell?”

I cracked a half smile. A reassuring one. “Pinky swear, Red. You have my word.”

At 13, a pinky swear was more powerful than swearing on the bible, or any other good book, for that matter. Pam understood my sincerity, and so she grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder, adjusting her hat one last time before following the others.

“Hurry up, Harl! You’ve gotta lead the way!” Selina shouted back at me. “We don’t know where we’re going!”

_She was right! I was the leader!_

I hurried to get in front of them, starting at a deliberate pace towards the woods.

Jack had a car, so the trip with him had gone by in a flash. But I figured that if we followed the train tracks, we’d get there eventually. Even if it took all day.

We were all quiet for the first mile, though there was a somber melody in our footsteps on the wood of the train tracks.

“Hey, Selina,” I was the first to speak—I’d never been comfortable in silence. My mom told me to shut up a lot. “Where did you get Isis, anyway?”

“She was living under my first foster home back in Gotham,” Selina answered, while kicking a rock. “Under the back porch. She was just a kitten. I think maybe her mama forgot about her or something, because she was the only one down there.”

“And your foster parents let you keep her?”

“Shit no,” Selina scoffed. “That’s why I ran away. I loved her the moment I saw her, there was no way I was giving her up to live in some stuffy house with people that weren’t even my real parents.”

We all knew not to ask about what happened to her real parents, so I resisted the urge to, even though I desperately wanted to know.

“My little sister has a cat,” Harvey spoke up, though his delivery lacked confidence for some reason. “She likes it a lot.”

We were quiet for a while longer, our footsteps again punctuating the silence.

“…I have two dogs,” I offered.

Bruce said, “I have one.” And we all kept walking.

After another mile, Pam began to run out of steam. I knew because even though she was our caboose, I could hear her labored breathing all the way from where I was making the pace at the front of the procession.

“I need…I need…”

“Hold up, hold up!” Bruce shouted, stopping me and the others and circling back for Pam. “What’s the matter, Pamela?”

“Need—need water,” Pam wheezed. She was already drenched in sweat. Harvey was too, but that was just because his hair oil made it impossible for any heat to escape his head. Pam’s plight was a little more sympathetic.

Bruce tore his canteen off his shoulder like he was a medic and opened the cap so swiftly he spilled a little of its contents into the dirt. Pam drank greedily, her face beet red. Though, I supposed red was better than green. At least in Pam’s book.

Harvey’s hands were on his hips. “You’re gonna have to take that jacket off eventually.”

“Not on your life!” Pam paused her gulping to snap back at him. “I just…I just need a little break.”

“We didn’t get to finish lunch,” Bruce pointed out. “Maybe some food would do us all some good.”

Selina was beside herself at the suggestion. “Isis is in trouble, Bruce! We don’t have time for that!”

“What good’s it gonna do Isis if Pam dies on the way there?” Bruce countered, in a decidedly bold move.

Pam coughed, that kind of cough that sometimes preceded vomit. “I’m not—I’m fine.”

Selina deflated, Pam’s half-hearted defense a better argument than Bruce’s attempt at reason. She looked up the tracks, and then back down at her friend whose sweat was now dripping into the dirt. “OK,” she acquiesced. “We get some food in us, drink some water, and then we don’t stop again until we’re at least half way there. Deal?”

I nodded, even though the question hadn’t been for me.

Pam nodded too, as did Bruce and Harvey, and we all left the tracks for the grass beside them.

“I brought those cookies you like, Harl,” Bruce said, offering me a bag of the freshly baked chocolate chip ones I’d tried to steal from his store the summer before. He never brought that up with me. Just brought me those cookies whenever he could.

I grinned, plopping down criss-cross-apple-sauce and taking the baggie from him. “You want one, Pammy?”

“I’m allergic to wheat,” the redhead mumbled.

Harvey rolled his eyes. “You’re allergic to everything.”

“I am not!”

“You’re literally allergic to the sun.”

“I’m allergic to that horse piss you call cologne, Harv,” Selina interjected, giggling at her own joke.

Bruce cracked a smile, and I couldn’t help myself. “I think I got black lung breathing in the fumes from your hair spray.”

“Ah, screw you guys.” Harvey shoved my shoulder, flipping Selina off with his other hand. “You’re just jealous.”

“Your mama ever complain about you hoggin’ her bathroom?” I asked with a snort.

“Hey now, hey now,” Bruce had evidently decided that crossed a line. “His mama’s a sore subject…ever since she caught him beating off in—,”

“Shut up!” Harvey tackled him into the dirt and the rest of us howled with laughter.

Well, not Pam. But she cracked a smile, which was as close as she ever got to laugher. She used to giggle at the stupid stunts I’d do for her. Fall out of a tree…trip over my laces on purpose…but she didn’t really laugh anymore since the doctor had come and left. I missed her giggle. And I knew she’d get it back someday. It would just take time. Everything takes time. That’s the best lesson I ever learned, I think, and it wasn’t one that came easily. But I learned it for me and I learned it for us.

Eventually.


	4. Chapter 4

Harvey Dent was Bruce’s best friend. He followed Bruce wherever he went, and since Bruce had been following Selina around since she moved to town, that meant with us. Looking back, though, Harvey probably had a bit of a crush on Pam too. And for some reason, that made me a little uncomfortable.

Harvey was nice enough, he was just…from a bad family. I’d told Pam that one time, and she’d replied, with one red eyebrow raised in questioning, “What constitutes a _good_ family?”

I didn’t have an answer. Firstly, because it was a complicated question. And Second, because ‘constitutes’ was a big word.

Jack Kerr had once told me he’d fuck me even though my mama was a ‘kike’. So…maybe that meant I didn’t have a good family neither. Because my mama didn’t celebrate Christmas and wasn’t born in this country.

Harvey’s father had been a soldier in the second big war, that’s why he’d gone crazy. But one time Harvey told me he’d gone to war to protect ‘jews’ like my mother, get as many as he could out of Germany and stop Hitler’s reign of terror.

…my mother was from England, not Germany, and she’d come to America to go to school before my daddy messed everything up. But Harvey needed his father to be a specific kind of hero, the kind he wasn’t at home. The kind he wasn’t to Harvey. So I let him have that.

Anyway, I was worried Harvey only liked Pam to get her clothes off. Jack liked to try and steal her hat, so I figured maybe Harvey was just running a longer con. He just wanted to see her skin turn green. We all had a sort of morbid curiosity around it. None of us had ever seen it in person, just heard about it around town from rumors probably started by the town doctor. But I wasn’t about to let some boy trick her into showing him. Even if that boy was also my friend.

I had a sort of…strange, relationship with Pam Isley. She was older than me and smarter than me and taller than me…but sometimes I’d just have the urge to hold her. Without warning I’d wrap my arms around her and squeeze, like I was worried something would go wrong. Like I was worried I’d some day have to let go. She never resisted me when I did this, in fact, sometimes she’d curl inward, rest her forehead on my shoulder and stay there until something interrupted us. I used to think that, maybe, I could be like a sponge for her. That if I held her close enough and maybe squeezed a little, I could absorb some of her sadness. Take a little bit away from her, even if it meant me being sad. It was worth it. Pam’s shoulders were just so…heavy. I wanted to take a bit of that weight.

I’m not sure I ever succeeded, but I tried. Boy, did I try.

I glanced back over my shoulder at my friends. Harvey was flipping a coin from his pocket, forced to slow his pace when he let Pam take his place towards the middle of the pack. Bruce had both hands firmly on the straps of his pack, as his was much heavier than the rest of ours. Selina’s expression was determined, but I could see some emotional fatigue starting to set in.

“ _Innnn…the big rock candy mountains, there’s a land that’s fair and bright_ ,” I sang. The others didn’t join in right away, so I continued. “ _Where the handouts grow on bushes, and you sleep out every night_.”

Bruce caught on and sang the next bit with me, his voice more powerful than mine. “ _Where the boxcars are all empty, and the sun shines every day_.”

Harvey’s accompaniment sounded a bit mumbled, but he was also keeping time with his coin, “ _On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees—_ ,”

“ _And the soda water fountains,”_ Selina joined in.

“ _The lemonade springs where the blue bird sings in the—_ come on, Pammy!” I encouraged.

“ _Big rock candy mountains_ ,” Pam finished. Actually singing, not just sort of yelling the words in a rhythm like the rest of us.

I whooped and hollered while Bruce lent a round of applause.

Selina laughed. “We should play stadiums.”

“Harvey’s got his coin.” Bruce smiled back at his friend. “Now all we need’s a harmonica.”

“I can play the washboard!” I volunteered. “Do it all the time when Ma makes me do laundry.”

Selina used her announcer voice, “And that day, history was made.”

We all devolved into giggles. Well, we giggled, Pam let out a snort, but close enough.

“So why’d Kerr bring you all the way out here, Harl?” Harvey asked, changing the subject.

I didn’t want to answer that.

“…it’s an awfully long way…”

“What does that matter?” I snapped, not looking back. “I know where Isis is, who cares how?”

“I care,” Pam’s voice floated up towards me.

“Because, you know, there’s a spot up here that people use for…uh…” Harvey didn’t seem to want to finish his sentence. I didn’t want him to either.

“You weren’t really thinkin’ about _being_ with Jack Kerr, were you?” Selina said, like she wanted me to dash those rumors on the rocks.

I walked faster. “Not after he showed me what he showed me.”

“What?” Bruce asked for clarification, I guess I wasn’t talking loud enough.

“Not after he showed me what he showed me!” I stopped to yell, causing Selina to crash into me head-on.

“Ow.”

I didn’t really feel like making eye contact with anybody, but Pam’s caught me, their green sparkling in the sunlight, and filled with something like pity. “Harley…you weren’t really going to…give that to him, were you?”

A rage boiled up my throat, rage I didn’t quite recognize. “Give what to him, Pamela?”

“You know…” Selina prompted.

“Your…uh…” Harvey attempted to clarify.

“Flower.” Bruce summarized.

We all looked at him strangely.

“What?!” Bruce demanded.

Selina shook her head with lighthearted disapproval. “You’re such a homo.”

Pam prickled at the insult, but I didn’t really care. I was mad at her for reasons I couldn’t explain all that well.

“It’s none of your business who I give my _flower_ to, Red. It’s my choice and you ain’t my mother.”

Pam seemed surprised by the anger in my tone. Rarely did I get angry at Pam. “Harley, Jack Kerr spits at me and calls me awful names. He also tortures helpless animals and you know it. How could you even entertain him in that way?”

“I didn’t!” I shouted. “He showed me the fridge and I told him to drive me home! That’s it!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Selina planted herself firmly between us. “You two need to cool off. Get some water, Quinzel. Get a grip.”

I stared Pam down a moment longer, ignoring Selina, before finally shaking my head. “No.” I turned around, starting again towards our destination. “We need to go. Isis in trouble.”


	5. Chapter 5

It’s funny, growing up. Funny ‘ha ha’ sometimes, funny ‘queer’ other. ‘Funny’ with that sad, hollow laugh occasionally. Childhood is never one thing. It’s a process, one that feels like it’ll never end…until it’s over, and you wonder where all the time went.

Life felt very permanent at 13. I woke up, I went to school, I talked to my friends, I came home, I ate dinner, I went to sleep. My job back then was to find a way to break up the monotony. Now, I tend to spend my days trying to keep an even keel.

I don’t miss being a child. But I do miss the innocence. Permanence is a luxury.

I’d made a slight mistake in my calculations thinking we could follow the train tracks all the way to the fridge. See, Castle Rock was located a couple miles north of the James River, just south of the York. And we had walked that couple miles. What I’d forgotten was the train tracks didn’t cross the river straight away. They looped around east for a while, as the bridge they’d built was technically in another county.

“Well, shit,” Selina cursed, hands on hips, standing just off the tracks to survey the river. “It’ll take us hours to walk to the bridge.”

“And Isis probably doesn’t have hours,” Pam pointed out, rather unhelpfully.

“Yeah, thanks, asshole.”

Pam slinked back under her hat.

“We could cross here,” I suggested, nodding towards the river. “It’s not too wide there. Or deep, I don’t think.”

“But it moves fast, Harley,” Bruce said.

“And?” I crossed my arms, a smile I didn’t intend finding its way to my lips. “What are ya, a pussy?”

Harvey scoffed, Bruce’s permanent hype man.

“No,” Bruce told me, his stance more confident now. “But it’s dangerous. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Shrugging, I told him, “I’m not scared.”

“Me neither,” Selina agreed.

Pam and Harvey stayed silent.

We all stood there for a while, sizing up our obstacle. I was still running a little hot from my argument with Pam, so I just wanted to get going.

“Fine,” Bruce finally decided. “But I go first.”

“Sure.”

“Whatever.”

Selina and I accepted his terms, and we filed into line behind him. First Bruce, then Selina, then Harvey, then Pam. I waited a moment to join them, but eventually did, bringing up the rear.

The river was probably 50 feet across at this juncture, and yeah, not very deep. But it was fast. Bruce was right about that. I assumed that at its deepest point, the water would probably come up to our waists. Well, their waists. I was a big shorter, so…maybe my chest.

The closer we got to the river, the more nervous I got. But I couldn’t turn back now. This had been my idea, and I’d just called Bruce Wayne a pussy. There was no way I could be the one to back out. Luckily, there was a rock that jutted out from the water at what was basically the center, so I could stop there for a minute if I needed a rest.

_Just think of it in halves. All you gotta do is make it to the rock, then to the shore._

Bruce took his first, brave step forward, soaking one shoe and then the other. Selina grabbed onto his waist for balance and they began. Harvey took an apprehensive look back at Pam before starting out himself.

Pam didn’t look back at me, and there was no way I was putting my hands around her waist. So she walked and I followed.

I could feel the water pulling at me feet, wanting to take my downstream, but I could also feel the rocks below me, and I focused on them. Focused on finding good footholds. As we got deeper, it became harder to keep myself upright, but I was determined, and at this point, only had about 10ft left until the mid-way rock. Pam climbed on top of it, and I was just behind her.

Maybe I got cocky. Maybe I let my anxiety go too early. Or maybe I just stepped on the wrong rock. Whatever the reason, I was suddenly not on my feet anymore. I was falling. Sliding. Slipping away downstream, the water dragging me under, away from my friends.

“Pam!” I managed to scream just before I was fully submerged.

She spun around, panicked, realizing I was no longer behind her.

I was under water, grabbing for anything on the river bottom strong enough to hold me. My hand brushed over a tree root and I grabbed it, holding onto it for dear life and thrusting my head above water.

When I resurfaced, Pam was still standing on the rock, and Bruce, Selina and Harvey had stopped dead in their tracks.

“Harley!” Pam shouted when she saw me. “There she is!” she told the others. “Harley, hold on!”

I was trying, but my arms also weren’t strong enough to hold me above water for too long, not with the current pushing down on them. “Pammy!” I sobbed, choking on the fast-moving water. I remember just wanting to go home. “Pammy, help me!”

Bruce was now trying to fight the current back to the rock, but it seemed like he soon determined Selina wouldn’t be able to stand without him, so he grabbed Harvey by the hand and yanked him forward, forcing Selina’s hands on his hips and telling them to “Go!”

I had to dunk back under, but when I came up for air again, Pam was looking fearfully up at the sun.

“Pa—” I swallowed a mouthful of water. “—mm!”

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she screamed, slamming her hands down on the rock in frustration. Then she tore her jacket open, rather than unbuttoning it, and tossed one sleeve into the water, holding onto the other one. “Grab on, Harley!”

I let myself be pulled back down underwater and took one shaking hand off the tree root, searching blindly for the cloth of the jacket.

I found it, and next thing I knew, I was being pulled through the water.

Bruce and Pam heaved one final time in tandem, and I was yanked onto the rock, the sun on my back feeling like God’s gift.

“Harley!” Pam rushed forward, tears streaming down her face. She wrapped me up in her arms and pulled me onto her lap, cradling me there and rocking subtly back and forth. I started sobbing and she pressed my head to her shoulder. “Shhh…it’s OK, you’re safe, you’re OK…” she kissed my hair and held me tighter.

Bruce was trying his best to take deep breaths beside us, I could hear him forcing a handle on himself, so I opened my eyes against Pam’s shoulder, turning my head to look at him. He was ghostly pale, his chest heaving. He had been nearly as frightened as I was, and he hadn’t even been in the water.

Slowly, I inched myself backwards, trying to create some distance between me and Pam so I could look at her. She was still wearing her hat, but from how red her cheeks, were you’d have thought she was sunburnt. Physical exertion wasn’t really her thing.  

I took her face in my hands and leaned forward to press a long, hard kiss to her cheek. “You saved me,” I sniveled, without pulling my lips away.

“I love you, Harley,” she told me. “I would never let you go.”

But she had let something go, and we seemed to both realize it at the same time, because we turned all at once to look down river and watch her jacket bob further and further away from us.

She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt under her overalls, so not all was lost, but I could see the panic in her eyes.

I grabbed her face and forced her to look at me again. “Thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bruce carried me on his back through the water the rest of the way, and didn’t put me down once we reached the shore.

Neither Selina nor Harvey spoke when we joined them, and they both wore the same expression, eyes wide—stricken. We all understood what had just happen. Or, what had almost happened.

My life had almost ended at 13.

That was a scary thought. It’s still scary now, actually. I think about it a lot. Not that my life turned out so fantastic afterwards. Didn’t exactly exceed anybody’s expectations. But I like to think that, at the very least, the people that took that adventure with me that day would have missed me. And watching somebody die will leave anybody worse off, so bare minimum, me being alive today helped their childhoods be a little less painful.

“Is…she OK?” Selina eventually asked, after we’d returned to the makeshift trail we were forging.

“She will be,” Pam answered, resting her hand against my back as I clung to Bruce.

Harvey was leading the pack at this point, and his voice was so soft when he turned to ask, “This way, Harl?”

I nodded mutely. The tracks were just up ahead, and there were no more rivers in our path. We’d be there soon.

…which is when I started to really think about how this all would go down. In hindsight, this plan had been pretty poorly thought out. Just, right out the gate, from the get-go, a generally bad idea. There were a couple different reasons why. The main one being that, even with Bruce and Harvey, if Jack was there we’d have a tough time defending ourselves.

“Jack has a gun,” I said aloud, though not loud enough for anyone but Bruce to hear.

“So do I,” he answered, glancing nonchalantly over his shoulder.

I looked too, my gaze landing on Pam who was struggling behind us under the weight of Bruce’s pack. I felt a little bad, but she looked determined and I’d just had a near-death experience. 

It was coming up on 4pm now, so the sun was sitting a bit lower in the sky. Even though the swim had almost killed me, being wet made the heat a lot more bearable.

Pam’s shirt was white underneath her overalls, and when I looked back at her again, I realized there were wet splotches on her arms where I’d gripped her. I was worried about that, and I could tell Pam was too. So I just crossed my fingers the shirt would dry before she started to turn, and looked ahead.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—I took a lot for granted as a kid. Though my parents didn’t seem to like me all that much, they didn’t hit me. They didn’t yell all that often. We made enough money to get by, even if we sometimes got a little low on food. That was more than I could say for most of my friends. And yet, even with the truly painful homelives some of them suffered through, they still found it in their hearts to love me unconditionally. Me! Harleen Frances Quinzel. I was loved unconditionally by people who didn’t share even a shred of my DNA. Not all kids are that lucky. Not all people. But I was. I was loved.

Jack Kerr didn’t love me. He never had. Heck, I knew that. I was smart enough to understand what he wanted. Wasn’t an all-star student, but this was a concept I could grasp. I shouldn’t have blown up at Pam about that whole ‘flower’ thing. I knew she just wanted what was best for me. Who was best. And that ‘who’ was not Jack Kerr.

“How much further?” Selina asked.

“Bout’ another half mile to the spot I know, but like I said, he moved it, so we’ll have to go lookin’.”

Selina nodded, resolute, and we all trudged forward. Well, save for me and Pam, of course. Pam because she was hobbling and me because all 5’10”, 170+lbs of beefy Bruce Wayne wasn’t about to let my feet hit the ground.

“You alright, Pammy?” I turned to ask.

Sweat was dripping down Pam’s forehead from beneath her hat, her pale cheeks bright red. “Yes,” she grunted out, her words catching on some phlegm in her throat.

Bruce finally let me off his back once we reached the clearing I recognized. It was about a ¼ mile off the road Jack used to drive back and forth from town.

“He couldn’t have taken it far…” I frowned, my hands on my hips as I surveyed the scene.

“We should probably follow the drag marks,” Pam suggested, her words almost mixed with a laugh.

 _Oh, Duh_ , I could feel us all thinking.

Bruce took his pack back from Pam, and we all followed her lead, letting the drag marks be our trail away from the clearing.

The grass was tall outside the clearing’s circle of trees, which made it even easier to track the fridge, as its heavy body had flattened all in its path.

I was right to say he wouldn’t be able to drag it far. Because…he didn’t.

The fridge was about 200ft from where it had begun, laying down horizontal at the base of a tree just passed the tall grass.

Selina started running as soon as she spotted it. I wanted to warn her about what she’d find inside, but there was no time. She was already on her knees next to it.

There were locks on the door, but they weren’t fastened, Jack was too lazy to remember his key.

Without any true preparation, Selina ripped open the door, and we were all hit with a stench so vile, I watched us nearly keel over in unison.

But beyond that, there was a meow.

A feeble, shaky meow.

But a meow.

“Oh my god,” Selina was crying, even as she lifted Isis out of the fridge, the cat’s body covered in what looked like the innards of other decomposing animals. Selina didn’t care, though, she clutched her close to her body and rocked her back and forth.

I was almost crying too. I hadn’t been sure if we’d find her alive, couldn’t be sure. And I honestly hadn’t wanted to hope. But here she was. Alive. Shaken, but alive.

But the meow was soon drowned out by a sound that felt almost deafening, despite its subtlety.

 _Click-click_.

A gun was cocked.

“You’re trespassing, Kiddos.”


	7. Chapter 7

I didn’t want to look because I already knew. Who it was and what he had.

Bruce turned first, ever the protector. He placed himself firmly between Jack and Selina where she still knelt, clutching Isis to her chest.

Pam and Harvey stood their ground, but there was a tremble in Harvey that he seemed unable to control. It became obvious this wasn’t the first time he’d stared down the barrel of a gun.

That’s when Jack spoke again. “Harley…” my name slithered off his tongue. “I’m hurt. I’d call this a betrayal.”

I still didn’t want to look at him, but Pam was rolling her eyes, so I whirled around in record time in hopes of distracting him from that.

Jack was sporting his typical disheveled look. His shirt only tucked in halfway at the front, his pants stained with dirt and grease, hair slicked at the sides but wild up top…this was business as usual for him. Unfortunately, Jack’s ‘usual’ struck a deserved fear into the hearts of most people in Castle Rock. Jack with a gun was another story altogether.

My heart was beating quickly, and loudly. I remember worrying that maybe Jack could hear it. I was terrified, but I didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want to appear that weak in front of friends that I’d led out here. Lead to their deaths, maybe.

Pam was the only one of us who didn’t look as though she was about to wet her pants, and I think that bothered Jack.

“How’d you get all the way out here, Pammy?” he asked, a chuckle in his tone, as he focused both his attention and his gun on her. “Broomstick?”

“Legs,” she countered, bluntly. “These ones here.” She pointed them out. “The ones that God gave me.”

Jack raised a thin eyebrow. “You’re still a bible thumper? Even after that doctor failed to fuck the evil out of you?”

My heart stopped. We all knew never to go there.

But Jack wasn’t one of us.

“It’s a figure of speech, Asshat,” Pam replied, almost without skipping a beat. I say ‘almost’ because her voice shook more than before.

Jack’s lips spread into a wide grin. He liked this. Feeling control. Over me, yes, but also over Bruce, Pam and Selina. They were the only ones who ever stood up to him in school.

He took a step towards Pam, and Bruce quickly adjusted, moving to protect her now, before Jack shot at his feet and Bruce had to jump high into the air.

“Don’t move, Wayne,” Jack told him, dark eyes flashing. “I’ll shoot.”

Bruce obeyed, but I could tell he was angry. Angry and scared. His chest heaving with adrenaline and emotion.

“Take your hat off.” Pam was once again his target.

“No.”

“I’ll shoot, Princess.”

“No.”

“Pam, just do it!” it was the first time Selina had spoken since Jack arrived, and her voice was strained with desperation.

I had never seen Selina Kyle afraid before, and maybe she wasn’t afraid for her, but she was definitely afraid for Pam.

When it was clear Pam still had no plans of folding, Jack changed his tactic. “Listen, Witch, either you take your hat off, or I’ll convince you the way they did all those bitches in Salem.”

Pam had the gall to cross her arms. “How’s that?”

Jack moved in a wide circle around them, threatening each of us with the gun individually, before he bent down near the fridge and reached into a sack he must have stashed there. What he pulled out was a can of gasoline, and it was all I could do not to scream at Pam that there was a gun in the bag at her feet.

But I stayed silent. I was afraid Jack would take the gun if he knew it was there.

“They didn’t burn witches in Salem,” Pam said, as Jack came closer with the gasoline. “That’s a myth.”

He kept the gun pointed at us while unscrewing the cap with his free hand. “Then let’s re-write some history.”

It all happened very fast after that.

And it ended with a gunshot.

Believe it or not, none of that happened on the worst day of my life. No, the worst day of my life was 4 years later.

It was hot that day too, though we stayed inside so the heat wasn’t as intimate.

I sat on Pam’s bed, my hands twisting in my lap as she flitted about, placing her already folded piles of clothes neatly into her suitcase.

I’d known this day was coming for 6 months now, but I still wasn’t ready for it. There was really no way to prepare.

“I wish you didn’t have to go so far away…” I mumbled, almost hoping she didn’t hear me.

But she did. She always did.

“Wellesley isn’t all that far,” she assured me. “But…” she paused, her hands still in her suitcase.

I looked up, puzzled when she didn’t continue. “But what?”

“But I…I’ve been thinking…” I could tell it took a lot of courage for her to look at me in that moment. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be any distance at all.”

I was confused, and my expression seemed to communicate as much.

“I just mean, I’m sure there are diners in Massachusetts, Harl,” Pam explained. “Ones that would be happy to employ you. You could—I mean, we could be together. Somewhere we don’t each have a million secrets buried. I’ve already put in an application for off-campus housing, that way—,”

“Pam, Old Man Pennyworth is set to leave me the diner.”

“There will be other—,”

“Pam.”

“What?” her voice shook in a way I’d only heard once before.

“Red, I’m not the type of girl you need.”

That statement evidently came as a relief to Pam, whose body and face relaxed into what was almost a smile, her hand coming up to adjust her hat so that the brim wouldn’t bump my forehead when she knelt in front of me. “Type? What type? All I need is for you to be you.”

To level with you all, this wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. Or one similar. She’d first brought it up to me the day her acceptance letter came in the mail, but we’d together passed it off as a sort of joke. Or, I had, at least. It was clear now that she hadn’t ever seen any humor in the proposal.

“That’s not what I mean,” I told her, on my way to choked up. “I mean I can’t help you, Pam.”

“I don’t—I don’t want your help,” She laughed. She actually laughed. “I want you, Harleen.”

I felt a single tear drip down my cheek. “And I can’t help you with that.”

She left on a train the next morning, one that traveled on the same tracks we’d once let guide us.

“If I leave here today, Harleen, you’ll never see me again. That’s a promise.”

It felt like more of a threat at the time, but I think she meant it as a final opportunity.

One I didn’t take.

I can now say from experience that watching the love of your life walk away from you, personally promising it’ll be the last time you’ll ever see her, is just a terrifying as staring down the barrel of a gun.


	8. Chapter 8

I was 17 when she left. 17 and very stupid. Or cowardly. You take your pick. I was certainly afraid. What Pam had proposed wasn’t exactly…proper, back then. Isn’t even all that proper now, and it’s been 20 years.

I knew I loved Pam—I always did, just wasn’t ever sure what sorta love that was. I knew she loved me, too, she told me as much. It was during our “destructive” phase, after the day Isis was rescued.

We’d all received our punishments. Selina was right to assume Pam’s parents would put a padlock on her door. They did, and it stayed there for two whole months.

Selina and Bruce’s weren’t all that bad. Old man Pennyworth interrogated Selina, asked if she’d made any trouble on her little excursion, she’d sworn up and down it was simply an adventure.

Bruce had to work morning shifts at his family’s grocery for the rest of the summer, and my parents made me get a job washing dishes at Pennyworth’s diner.

Harvey got the worst of it. His daddy was drunk when he got home late that night, and when Harvey didn’t answer his questions about how his ear got burnt, his daddy took a hold of it and yanked him over to the stove. The next time we saw Harvey, nearly half his face was covered in bandages, and that skin never really healed. Turns out having your face held against the metal grate of a stove with the flame on high can leave a nasty scar.

But anyway, the thing with me and Pam happened two summers later. We were all drinking a lot at that time, trying our best to forget our problems, getting into more trouble than we ought to. That night, we’d all piled into Bruce’s convertible and headed out to the river with a six pack and some whiskey Selina had lifted off the shelf.

Selina and Bruce lit a fire, and while they were dancing, making fools out of themselves while Harvey laughed, Pam pulled me into the darkness and pressed me up against the car, kissing me deep and slow enough for me to taste the nearly half-bottle of whiskey she’d downed.

I thought about fighting her, just out of surprise, in the first rushed moments…but that hand of protest ended up resting on her shoulder instead.

Her words were slurred when she spoke, but there was a lot of emotion behind them. “I love you, Harley. I think you’re—you’re just so…bright. I see you.”

I was too drunk to really comprehend any of that at the time. Or at least that was my excuse for never talking to her or myself about it. And she never brought it up either, but she would smile at me like we had a secret, and that would make me blush. She only smiled at me.

Still, I didn’t know Pamela Isley was the love of my life until she was long gone. I was 23, still where I was then and exactly where I am now, in Castle Rock, working at Pennyworth’s diner. I’d started seeing this boy—this man. He wasn’t pushy for intimacy like Jack had been, and I think that was what I liked about him. Eddie was smart and extremely outgoing and as kind as a man had ever been to me. He had red hair and the prettiest green eyes…eyes I could gaze into and imagine someone else’s.

But that was just it. See, he was imagining someone else too. Eddie Nygma had a secret. One just like Pam’s. One sorta like…mine. The night I caught him he put his head in my lap and cried, and when he looked up at me, there was a pain in his eyes that I recognized. In that moment, I understood, for the first time, what I had really lost.

My chance to be set free.

I’m 37 years old now, and today, I opened the newspaper and cried.

_Richmond Lawyer Shot Dead in Street_

“Harvey…” I whispered.

I hadn’t spoken to Harvey Dent since he left for college, same as Pam and same as Bruce. Selina sometimes called, but for the most part, they didn’t just leave Castle Rock, they left me too.

I knew Harvey had become a lawyer because the whole town was so surprised. See, his daddy was a bully. A bad apple. And so people around here just assumed Harvey would be trouble too. I knew they were wrong, though. The Harvey I knew was kind and protective. Considerate and mostly soft spoken. He was the kind of boy that stood up for what he believed in, and it seemed he’d been that kind of man too.

Harvey had been a prosecutor, one who brought criminals to justice. I remember reading that he convinced the state legislature to impose harsher punishments on domestic abusers, which is I know something that hit close to home for him.

And now here he was. Looking up at me from a black and white picture, still handsome, despite his scars. I was looking at a face I would never again see in person.

The article said he’d been personally escorting a witness to the courthouse when a man with a gun approached them, threatening the woman he was accompanying. Bystanders said they saw Harvey first place himself in front of the woman, and then try to reason with the gunman. He was shot three times, once in the hand that had been outstretched towards the gunman, once in the gut and once in the chest. He bled out in the ambulance before they reached the hospital.

The woman lived, her only wound coming from shrapnel as it exited Harvey’s body.

The paper was wet with tears before I even finished the article. At the end, the author stated, _“Mr. Dent’s funeral will be held in his hometown of Castle Rock, Virginia, and will be hosted by childhood friend Bruce Wayne.”_


	9. Chapter 9

Bruce and Selina rolled into town the afternoon before the funeral, driving a very stylish black Cadillac. I had been watching out the window of my diner all morning, and practically tore my apron off when I recognized them, starting at a run to greet them outside. 

Selina hadn’t even fully exited the vehicle when I threw my arms around her. She smelled different, but somehow felt just the same, and was quick to hug me back. 

“You grew!” she exclaimed, half laughing. 

It was true I’d hit a bizarre late growth spurt, but still only made it to about her nose. 

“Only a little,” I smiled against her, not letting go just yet, not until Bruce cleared his throat. I detached from Selina to look, and was relieved to see her husband hadn’t peaked in high school. 

They were both so glamorous, dressed in black, already mourning, it seemed. Their hair was still that same rich charcoal, but Selina’s, at least, was now more styled than just a black mop on her head. I supposed Bruce had always been fairly put together in that regard. 

The sleeves on his v-neck sweater were pulled up to his elbows, and her turtleneck didn’t seem to have any sleeves at all. I’m not sure why, but this made me laugh. It was like they’d only half committed to a Virginia summer. 

Bruce’s jaw had grown stronger and his shoulders broader in his absence, and Selina was no longer the gangly-limbed, wild-eyed girl I remember. She looked like a very important woman. One they’d interview on the news just because they wanted to hear opinion. 

“It’s so good to see you,” I told Bruce. “Both of you. I can hardly believe it.” 

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but was preemptively interrupted by the back door of their car opening. 

A boy emerged. A teenager, one with their same dark hair, but different eyes. “Should I get Helena?” he asked. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” Selina smiled first at him, and then at me. “Harley…” she spoke, sounding almost nervous as the boy rounded the car and opened the opposite side. “That’s our son, Dick, and this…” 

I watched, rapt, as Dick pulled a sleepy toddler out of the car. 

“…is our daughter, Helena.” 

The girl’s skin was pale like Bruce’s, but she had Selina’s big green eyes and the cheeks I remember Selina didn’t grow out of until she was at least 15. 

I was nearly at a loss for words, but I did manage a, “My goodness!” which is, admittedly, an odd response for me, so I added, “They’re so beautiful!” 

I could tell Dick wasn’t a huge fan of my word choice, but before I could amend it to “handsome”, Selina was re-introducing me. 

“Dick, this is Harley, the friend we were telling you about.” 

“Oh.” He handed Helena off to his father. “I heard you own a diner.” 

“I do.” I beamed with pride, turning to point at the large letters painted in the window that read ‘The Terminal’. “It’s that one, there.” 

“Do you…serve pancakes?” 

“Yes, absolutely,” I assured him. “Best pancakes in town, the paper said so.” 

Bruce chuckled. “Well, if you can’t trust the Castle Rock Gazette, than who can you trust?” 

“She doesn’t actually cook the food, Darling,” Selina clarified for him. “I’m sure they’re more than fine.” 

“Oh, buzz off,” I shoved Selina’s shoulder, which seemed to delight her. “Just shut up and eat, I’ll clear you guys the table by the window.”

This is the part where I have to go back just a bit and add some information I think you missed last time. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe I mentioned Eddie’s profession the last time we spoke. 

Well…Eddie Nygma is actually Detective Edward Nygma. He’s the lead homicide detective, robbery detective, bribery and—you know what, there are like 3 other officers in the department, OK? He’s the head honcho. And he’s always sitting at my bar getting fat on sugary breakfast foods, which meant he was available for an introduction. 

Bruce and Selina were warm, laughed at a few of his high-brow jokes that no one really understood, and that was basically that. I told them he was from Georgia and they made some small talk about that for a moment while I grabbed some menus. 

“I’d love to get down there again sometime, really,” Bruce was saying when I returned. “Lovely state, I just can’t bear the humidity.” 

“Who can?” Eddie chuckled. “Pleasure to meet you, anyhow.” 

Selina let him kiss her hand and then I lead them to their table, yanking over a high-chair for Helena. “Alright, well, I’ll start you off with some waters, and then—,” 

“Wait,” Selina laughed. “You mean you’ll be serving us?” 

“Well, I—,” 

“Sit, Harl,” Bruce instructed, pulling out a chair for me. “Please, I’ll tip triple to whoever’s scrambling to cover.” 

I was unable to keep myself from smiling. “OK. I’ll just check with the kitchen and be right back out.” 

“OK,” they smiled too, and I headed back to the kitchen, just to make sure my staff would be alright for a moment without me. 

Even though I would be eating with them, I couldn’t resist at least taking a tray of waters out to the table. So after I got the go-ahead from my very hard-working cook, I emerged from the kitchen once more, carrying that tray of water. But as I approached the table, I found my chair had been taken. 

I assumed Selina and Bruce would have a lot of people to catch up with having been gone for so long, but I knew just about everybody in Castle Rock and I didn’t recognize this woman. 

She was wearing a white sundress--a stark contrast to Bruce and Selina’s somber colors-- that was open at the back, showing off her tanned skin, and sandals with a slight heel were strapped to her feet. If I’d had to guess, I’d of said she was a tourist from somewhere far west of here. But that didn’t make much sense, as she’d so quickly made herself at home at Bruce and Selina’s table. 

I slowed my walk, making my presence known the way I always had as a waitress, not wanting to intrude. “Will we be needing another menu this afternoon?” I asked, reverting back to the customer service script I’d memorized long ago. 

“Mmm…no, I don’t think so,” the woman spoke from beneath her mane of red hair, before brushing it aside to look up at me, and nearly stopping my heart in the process. “The Gazette said I really must try the pancakes.” 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long, it's been a weird week and some change

You have to understand, I didn’t believe, in a million years, that Pam would come back here. She was the type to keep her promises, and she’d been very clear with me all those years ago. I felt underprepared for this reunion in every possible regard.

I’m pretty sure my jaw literally dropped, because it wasn’t until she raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me that I was able to yank myself out of my stunned silence and stammer a confused, “P-Pam?”

“I suppose I should have worn a hat,” she admitted. “I’m sure the long-awaited appearance of the top of my head is rather jarring for you all.”

Selina smiled coyly down at her menu as Pam stood, taking my hand and enveloping me in a hug—one like soft velvet upholstered to a solid interior—before I could speak again.

I didn’t dare resist, instead melting into her arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Thank goodness my late growth spurt allowed us to circumvent the predictable awkwardness that would have ensued had my head only been able to rest against her chest like in the old days. My current height allowed me to comfortably reach her shoulder, and I did, laying my head there and closing my eyes before I could give my body the physical command to.

Pam smelled like perfume—sweet, floral perfume, but somehow her skin also carried the underpinning scent of the outdoors. Fresh and clean, like pine needles and sunscreen absorbed by tan skin. A specific smell, one that I never expected to find on Pam.

“I should have known you’d be more beautiful than I remembered,” she whispered against my ear. I nearly convulsed into a full-body blush.

Bruce cleared his throat, though less out of awkwardness than hunger, it seemed. “Harley, we’re half starved. We’ve got the whole weekend to make up for lost time.”

Selina snickered beside him, and Pam let go, though her fingers lingered on my skin a moment longer.

“I’ll just—.” I coughed. “I’ll run your orders back to the kitchen. What can I get’cha?”

“No, Harl, you’re sitting with us,” Selina protested.

“I will, I will,” I assured her, trying to keep my nervous giggle at bay. “I’ll just get everything started, then be right back out.”

“Then it’s pancakes all around, I think,” Bruce spoke for everyone.

“I’ll take the salmon omelet, actually,” Selina dissented.

Pam smiled, her truly breathtaking features filled with a genuine humor. “You would.”

Before that could make me blush again, I turned and hightailed it to the kitchen, shooting Eddie a not-so-subtle _get your ass over here I need to freak out for a second_ look before disappearing behind the curtain.

He reluctantly set his pastry down and followed, looking somewhere between perplex and inconvenienced.

My cook had gone out the back door to get rid of the excess grease from the stove, so I felt I could speak openly.

“Eddie!” I grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt as soon as he entered, and thrust myself against his chest, nearly in tears of hysteria. “I didn’t know she was coming.”

“Uh…” he awkwardly patted my back. “I’m not sure who exactly you mean…”

“The girl!” I nearly sobbed, though without any tears.

“Which girl?”

“ _The_ girl! My girl! The one whose heart I’m pretty sure I broke.”

Eddie’s confusion was obvious in his voice. “…the weird one with the skin condition?”

“She wasn’t weird!”

“OK, the one everyone but you thought was weird with the skin condition? She’s here?”

“Sitting with Bruce and Selina.”

I almost heard his eyebrow raise, and he created a few inches between us to ask me, like I was crazy, “The bombshell at table 4?”

“That’s the one!” I was pretty sure I was yelling at this point. Actually, I know I was, because Eddie covered my mouth with his hand and waited to respond until I’d calmed down slightly.

“Harley,” he chuckled. “I was 21 when I moved here, your gang had been gone for 3 years already, and I still know all about the Witch Child of Castle Rock. And there is no way that’s her. That woman looks like a catalogue model.”

“I know!” I covered my own mouth this time, only removing it when I was sure I could trust myself. “I wasn’t—I didn’t prepare—I…Eddie, what am I supposed to do?”

Eventually, the earnestness in my expression and the franticness of my tone seemed to convince him of my sincerity because he leaned inconspicuously out of the curtain to get another look at table 4, then returned to me once he’d had his fill. “OK.” He took my shoulders. “Well, Harley…you’ve aged…” he seemed to be searching for the right word. “Admirably.”

“Admirably?!” I repeated, exacerbated. “Eddie, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means…I’m not interested, through no fault of yours, but I still made an effort, didn’t I?” He asked, though the question was rhetorical. “That has to count for something.”

“I—I don’t—,”

“Just…maybe don’t expect to be the one breaking hearts this time,” he suggested. “You’re still you, and I’m sure she’s still her, under all that tan skin and…her ample bosom, and….her…waves of crimson hair that seem to reflect the light like—,”

“Eddie, you’re not interested, remember?” I interrupted him.

“Right, no, I’m just—from an empirical standpoint—never mind, it doesn’t matter. Nor does the time and the distance. If she’s your girl, she’s your girl, right?”

“She was never my girl,” I lamented, slumping against the wall. “She asked and I more or less told her she needed to get help.”

“…right.”

That’s when the cook returned.

“Nothin’ to it but to do it, Harl,” were Eddie’s departing words of wisdom, then he left, the siren song of his pastry calling him back.

I put in the order and left the safety of the kitchen as well, noticing Pam had pulled up an empty chair beside her. She was laughing at some joke Selina had evidently cracked by the time I arrived.

_Laughing._

_Pam laughed now._

It was a pleasant sound, one somehow melodic and full-throated all at once. It loosened the knot in my stomach, and I was able to take my seat.

“—He cried!” Selina continued. “Just broke down in tears.”

“Oh, lay off,” Bruce rolled his eyes. “We shouldn’t have been doing it, anyway.”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Mailbox baseball,” Pam filled me in, placing her hand on my knee. “Remember? Bruce tried that one night and couldn’t stand to break the rules.”

“The law, Pamela,” Bruce corrected.

“I remember,” I giggled, my skin tingling where she’d placed her hand. “It was your idea, Selina. The boys simply weren’t up to snuff.”

“Well, Harvey was all about law and order,” Pam smiled, glowing in a good memory of their friend. “Never the rebel his father desired.”

“Who can know what his father desired,” Bruce said, handing Helena a different color crayon. “The man was a mystery.”

“The man was a monster,” Pam corrected. “He didn’t deserve Harvey, not for a moment.”

“Sometimes I’m not sure anyone did,” Selina added. “Least of all us.”

“Oh, we weren’t so bad,” I smiled. “And he really only signed up for Bruce, anyway.”

“Touché,” Selina winked, and Pam laughed.

I weathered a few moments of silence only I found awkward before starting, “So what have you—,”

But the tray of food interrupted me. I supposed I’d get to ask those questions later, after we all had a meal in us.


	11. Chapter 11

“—I’m blessed, I realize that. I got to come home. But I’m not ashamed to say it sticks with me.” Bruce was leaned back in his chair, his eyes far off, gazing in Dick’s direction where the boy sat on the bench outside my restaurant, his sister in his lap. “When I close my eyes, I’m back there more often than not.”

“So you came back and found Selina again?” I asked, rapt, my chin propped on my elbows at the table.

“Oh, I don’t think he ever really lost me,” Selina said, smirking in her husband’s direction. “I always dreamed of marrying a war hero anyway.”

Pam raised an incredulous eyebrow. “The husband of your dreams is irrevocably traumatized?”

Selina scoffed. “Show me a child of our generation who isn’t traumatized someway, somehow.”

“All joking aside,” Bruce again inserted himself. “There are no heroes of that war.”

“Cheers to that.” Selina raised her water glass in solidarity.

There was silence for a moment. More reverent than awkward. Bruce’s attention drifted from his son, to his wife, and eventually over to Pam and I.

I watched him glance between us. “When was the last time you two spoke?” he asked.

I blushed. Not sure why, but I did, and it rendered me voiceless. So Pam decided to answer that one. “Not since I left for school.”

“Then you two have a lot to catch up on,” Selina grinned, something teasing in her smile, leaning forward, her interest evidently piqued. “Pam and I talk on the first day of every summer, and I have two kids and she lives on the other side of the country. What’s your excuse, Harl?”

“All the way across the—where do you live?” I’d wondered that for so long. Had been kept up by it so many late nights…the fact that I was about to get an answer from Pam’s own lips was almost surreal.

“I split time between California, Oregon, and Washington, depending on the season,” Pam divulged. “The nature of my research is climate and season specific.”

I nodded like I perfectly understood all of this. There was something about this Pam that I found so intimidating…perhaps for the reasons Eddie had cited, but also she was now so…there. That sounds strange. I mean she was in her body, finally. Sure of herself. I supposed it probably helped that her body was now more comfortable to live in.

“Did you move straight there after school?”

“Well, no,” Pam said. “Not exactly. I finished my undergrad at Wellesley, then went on to Colombia for my PhD. I moved to Seattle after being offered a teaching position at their university, before deciding that just wouldn’t do.”

“Teaching is a respectable profession,” Bruce pointed out. “What about it did you not like?”

Pam’s expression was borderline triumphant when she said, “I was locked away in a tiny room for the first 15 years of my existence, watching as others—you all, even—were allowed to experience life. I wasn’t about to trap myself in a little room again. Science should be experienced, not simply relayed.”

I cleared my throat. “So…what is it your do then, exactly? What sort of science?”

“Technically, I’m a botanical engineer.” Pam explained. “But that means little to most people, so I’ll just tell you I’m a chemist who focuses on the naturally-occurring medicinal advantages of the plant life we’re blessed to be surrounded by.”

“Wow…” I breathed, and I could faintly hear Selina snort to my left. It was only then I realized I was gazing at Pam like she was the goddess Demeter herself (Yeah, I sometimes read old books). “And is that—how did you fix your skin?” the question was out before I could stop it.

Pam’s smile was tighter this time. More familiar. “I trust my scientific prowess enough to be my own guinea pig,” she answered. “Eventually I found the answer, and wouldn’t you know, the cure didn’t require I sacrifice a single virgin, or that any demons be removed from my body, by exorcism or penetration.”

I bit my tongue. Literally. It hurt.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, appearing to experience every bit of pain that I was. But Selina chuckled, slapping her knee. “Amazing, the advancement of medical science.”

Pam forced some air out of her nose in what was nearly a laugh, looking out the window for a moment before bringing her attention back to the table. “In any case…” she continued. “I truly thought I’d never come back here. But Harvey convinced me otherwise.”

“I’m surprised it hit the national news,” Selina admitted.

“I mean, he was on page 12. Unfortunately for me, I read my paper cover to cover.”

“Well look at _you_ ,” Selina teased, reaching across the table to ‘boop’ Pam’s nose. “The Witch Child of Castle Rock, come back to make us all look like we’ve been twiddling our thumbs for the last 20 years.”

“Oh, from what I hear, your activism has been rather effective, Cat,” Pam smiled back. “I’m sure the kids from your foundation have far more regard for you than some scientist on the West Coast.”

“But even I can admit I unfairly influenced them in that argument.”

 _What in the world have I been doing?_ I couldn’t help but think.

And, like we were of one mind, that was the moment Bruce decided to add, “No disrespect to Old Man Pennyworth, but you’ve really turned this place around, Harley. And the pancakes really were fantastic.”

A scientist, a veteran, and a philanthropist. I brought the same 30 people their breakfasts every morning.

Bruce and Selina left after our plates had all been cleared away, tipping my cook a whopping 50%, which he was very grateful for. They hugged Pam and I, then told us they were taking Dick and Helena back to Bruce’s parents’ house and would see us tomorrow.

Pam and I didn’t have much to say after we were left alone. I toed the dirt beneath our feet and she stared down the road, seeming to examine the dust kicked up by Bruce’s Cadillac.

This silence was a bit uncomfortable. And Pam eventually broke it, saying, “I’m terribly jet-lagged. I think I’ll check into my hotel and have a nap.”

_Have a nap…who still talks like that?_

“Right, right, I understand.” I nodded.

I was distracted the rest of the day at work. More than once a customer asked me what was wrong. They all wondered where my smile had gone.

 _She took it again_ , I wanted to say, but I realized that would sound ridiculous to anyone by myself.

Eddie came and checked back in on me after finishing his workday, which was nice, but I didn’t have much to say to him.

I sent my cook and the other server home as soon as the sun went down, telling them I’d clean the place up myself tonight.

And so I was left alone.

At least, that’s what I thought.

As I placed the last chair atop the last table, a floorboard creaked behind me, and when I turned, I found it was Pam Isley standing in the doorway, leaning coolly against the frame. Her hair was up now, piled high atop her head in a loose bun, her arms crossed over her chest, wearing high-waisted jeans and a t-shirt with a plunging zipper that she hadn’t bothered to zip up.

“Oh, it’s—it’s you,” I sputtered, halfway between relieved and terrified.

Without offering a verbal response, she pushed off the doorframe, crossing the room quickly, her platform heels thumping loudly on the wood beneath her feet.

I looked up from her shoes just in time to watch her wrap me in her arms and pull me into a kiss, her hands traveling up my waist until she cupped my face, her lips somehow softer than I remembered, but with far more purpose this time.

And I kissed her back. Of course I did. I’d been dreaming of this moment for 20 years and it was happening. By God’s grace or fate’s or maybe simply Pam’s, I wasn’t sure. But I wasn’t about to let it pass me by.

She smiled when she pulled back, taking a good-long look at me—my undoubtably blushing cheeks and heaving chest—before leaning down to rest her forehead against mine.

“I thought you weren’t this type of girl.” She was relieved, that much was obvious, but there was also a certain satisfaction to her tone that brought back a heat in my gut I only faintly remembered.

“I think—you’ll have to show me.”


	12. Chapter 12

I’m not sure what I thought it would be like, loving someone who truly loved me. Loving someone I wanted to be with so desperately. But it was better. Whatever my expectation, being with Pam, feeling her hands, her fingers, her mouth on my body was better than I dared hope. Not just for the feeling, but also the intimacy that came with knowing a person for so long, and now finally _knowing_ her.

And she was kind. My Pammy, so sweet to me, just like she always had been. So patient. I’d spent a long time forgetting what unconditional love felt like, and now she was teaching me again, same as she had the first time.

Though, admittedly with some changes. No…let’s call them _updates_. Wouldn’t go as far as to say ‘improvements’, no, you can’t improve on a memory, that’s already burned in, seared to your skin with the hot prod of nostalgia.

No matter which way I put it or which convoluted metaphor I mix, intimacy was a welcome change. It was an itch that had needed scratching for some time, but never in my wildest dreams had I thought Pam would ever be back to scratch it.

Pamela Isley kept her promises.

So maybe that’s what this was. A promise. Maybe I’d been mistaken before. Maybe we both had. She wasn’t promising to leave, but to come back. This right here was the end of a chapter we’d previously left open. Unfinished. Unwritten until right now.

Not that I presumed this moment to be the end of our story, but as I lay there next to her, the sheets pulled around us, held fast in her arms, I almost wished it was.

You know when you’re readin’ a book or watchin’ a film, and for a moment just past the middle everything is going right for the main character? Whenever I’m engrossed in a story, I find myself wishing it would end before the end. In that sweet middle part when life was what they hoped for.

This is what I’d hoped for.

I’d hoped for Pam.

“Were you sad? When you left?” I murmured into the darkness, too tired to truly annunciate.

“Cried myself to sleep most nights in the first month.”

“Then what?”

“Then I got angry,” Pam told me.

“At who?”

“At God, for making me the way he did.”

“You still believe in God?”

“No.”

“Then wh—,”

“Because lost girls need a star to yell at, otherwise they’re just talking to themselves.”

I thought on that for a moment. “I remember you used to talk to your flowers.”

“Mm…” Pam nodded, her chin moving against my temple. “I’ve found they’re the best listeners.”

I giggled as I propped myself up on my elbow, shifting to look at her. “You’re a strange one, you know that, Pam Isley?”

She shrugged. “What’s strange about imagination?”

“Nothin’.” I smiled softly, lifting my hand to drag a finger from her forehead down the bridge of her nose. “It’s funny that you don’t believe in God.”

“Oh?” Pam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And why’s that?”

“Because…” I let my finger fall from her lips to her chin, leaning forward as I did. “I think you’re his most perfect creation.”

She blushed, and just before I kissed her—for a brief moment—I could have sworn her cheeks flushed green rather then red.

Pam would want me to think it was a trick of the light, though.

So it was.

/

We arrived early for the funeral the next day. Seemed Pam hadn’t grown out of her obsession with punctuality. I personally liked the idea of getting a bit distracted beforehand, but she said this day was about Harvey.

Somehow, I think Harvey wouldn’t mind.

I wore a black dress Selina had sent me from New York the Christmas before, and Pam wore nicely tailored slacks that hugged her figure almost well enough to distract me from my grief.

It was sunny, but Pam refused to wear a hat and cursed when she realized she’d forgotten her sunglasses in the purse she’d evidently left at home. She used one hand to shield her eyes for the 6 block walk to the church and the other to hold mine. I’m sure it would have felt like an out of body experience had Pam not been tethering me so firmly.

We dropped our grip just outside our destination, giving each other a look that acknowledged our sin before walking into the church.

Pam didn’t flinch passing through the doorway, and I don’t know why, but that made me smile. This Pam wasn’t afraid. Not of the sun, nor the wrath of whatever deity her parents claimed had doomed her.

My gait was a bit more hesitant, not because of some religious guilt, but because I instantly spotted Selina near the back, standing next to Bruce and their children and sporting a look that said ‘ _I know exactly what you two did last night_ ’.

I briefly wondered if Harvey would have been avoiding eye contact the same way Bruce was.

The church was full, the townspeople were all dressed in their mourners best, which I found almost morbidly hilarious. Pam seemed to share my sentiment because she leaned down to whisper, “These people, acting like his funeral is the hot ticket in town, the same ones that spat on his shoes because his daddy was trash”.

Selina had evidently overheard as we came to stand next to her. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, leaving behind a sickened smirk as she nodded towards the front. “You see Ms. Tate came out this morning?”

“I’m surprised she stopped whipping him long enough to let him get outta this town,” Bruce growled out of the side of his mouth.

Pam lifted a program from the back of the pew in front of her. “I’m surprised that wasn’t what killed him.”

“Please tell me his daddy is dead, Harl,” Selina said.

“Mm…mm-mm,” I shook my head, nodding discreetly to the stage as an old man hobbled up the stairs towards the microphone that had been set out. “Not yet.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Selina cursed, earning an elbow in the side from Bruce. “Oh, what’s he gonna do?” she turned her harsh whisper towards her husband. “Smite me where I stand?”

“Jesus doesn’t smite people, Kitty,” Pam corrected.

“Oh, who needs you.” Selina sulked.

My stomach clenched as I watched Harvey’s father—the villain of his childhood, the figure in all his nightmares—take the microphone in one shaky hand.

“Good—good morning,” he slurred. “So k—,”

“You know, Harvey never drank after high school,” Bruce told us, rescuing us from what was going to be a painful eulogy. “He was absolutely terrified of becoming that.”

“He didn’t have that in him,” I murmured. “Drunk or not.”  

“You shouldn’t have invited that asshole, Bruce,” Selina was obviously upset, as her voice came out slightly louder than a whisper, drawing some dirty looks from the people in front of us.

“I didn’t,” Bruce defended himself. “The community organizers did.”

Pam shook her head. “God, I hate this town. If not for Harley’s diner, I’d buy the whole thing just to burn it to the ground.”

“I’ll bring the matches,” Selina offered.

I gave Pam’s arm a harsh squeeze.

“What?” She hissed. “I said if not for your diner.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Bruce was upset after the funeral.

Well, honestly, we were all pretty upset, but Bruce was visibly so. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him _angry_ like that.

He stood in front of the open casket, Selina’s hand gripped tightly in his own, eyes staring down at the lifeless body of his childhood friend.

Selina’s attention shifted back and forth from Bruce to Harvey, clearly trying to accept her own grief while also holding space for her husband’s.

Pam and I stood a step or two back, hands down at our sides, not holding each other, no matter how desperately I wanted to be.

“You’d think, with where he was in his career, he could have afforded a cosmetic surgeon,” Pam offered to the group, referencing the scars still seared into Harvey’s skin.

“Not everyone is so desperate to forget their past, Pamela,” Bruce muttered.

“Perhaps he should have been.”

“He was doing important work,” Selina reminded us.

“Yes,” Pam agreed. “Work that landed him in a casket, about to be buried in a town he despised.”

Bruce turned to her, a passion in his eyes that I couldn’t say I was completely familiar with. “Seems not everyone can lay their demons to rest as efficiently as you. Congratulations, Poison Pammy.”

A chuckle bubbled up from deep within Pam’s throat, one completely devoid of humor. “You know, Bruce, for the life of me I can’t remember you being this big of an asshole. Big, brave Bruce Wayne wanted an adventure, so he got one. You chose your demons, hot shot, don’t expect me to kneel at the feet of the selfless soldier.”

There was a vain visible in Bruce’s forehead as he took an almost threatening step closer. “I was drafted.”

“Bullshit,” Pam dissented. “None of you silver spooners had to go. We all thank you for your service, but you weren’t born into your suffering.”

Selina yanked Bruce backwards by the arm, then stepped between them. “OK, hey, we get it, you two; everything is awful. Harvey is dead, this town is toxic, and just because we’re all pretty now doesn’t mean our souls aren’t still stained with heaps of bullshit we survived. Get over yourselves. At the end of the day, the three of us still got out. If there’s anyone to feel sorry for here, it’s Harley.”

“Hey!” I was so offended, I forgot to whisper. “I didn’t ask any of you to feel sorry for me, and believe it or not, I don’t live with many reg—,”

“Oh, no?” Pam laughed again. “You live without regrets? Is that so?”

 _Goddamn it_. “Pammy, that’s not what I—,”

“Jesus Christ, let’s go,” Selina interrupted, yanking on Bruce’s hand again. “Come here, all of you. Let’s get out of this church.”

“And go where?” Pam demanded.

“On a walk, Isley, you fuckin’ stiff.”

Pam’s jaw dropped open, almost like she’d been slapped in the face, and I was suddenly transported back to an earlier time. A time in which Pam wore overalls and Selina’s hair was uncouth.

The sun was there to greet us as soon as we exited the church. Pam cursed it, and we all walked for a few moments in silence before Selina slowed down to say, “Lead the way, Harl.”

“To where?” I asked.

The brunette shrugged. “I wouldn’t know where to go anymore.”

I simply looked at her for a moment, studying her fair features, the subtle lines in her face. _Pretty, but still broken._

“Mom, where are you going?” I heard Dick shout from the church steps behind us.

“I’m not sure!” she called back. “Harley’s taking us where we need to go. Mind your grandfather, we’ll be back eventually.”

My feet seemed to move before I commanded them to. They knew the path. The path I’d tried hard to forget. But it was in me now, that direction. I’d always feared it would never leave me, and now I knew that to be true. It was a bittersweet moment, and I can’t describe exactly why. Sometimes my words escape me, give way to simple feelings that take root deep in my gut. They don’t require explaining, not to me, at least. I’d had one that day at the train station with Pam. It was like a weed, growing from the pit of my stomach up my throat, wrapping itself around my heart and screaming at me to “GO!”

I’d stayed.

“I didn’t bring the right shoes for whatever the fuck this is,” I heard Pam grumble behind me.

That made me smile. It doesn’t matter exactly why.

The day had grown hot as the sun climbed in the sky. Bruce stripped himself of his jacket, hanging it over his shoulder as he walked. Sweat was visible through his white shirt, following the pattern of his suspenders across his back and down his shoulders. The dust our feet kicked up accumulated on our black clothes, sticking to the fabric like coal on the jacket of a tired miner. Pam stopped to role up her pant legs, Selina shed her mourner’s hat and tossed it off the train tracks.

“You still sing, Pam?” Bruce asked, interrupting our long stretch of silence.

“I never sung.”

“Sure you did.”

“Then, no. I don’t anymore.”

“That’s a pity.”

We let our footsteps hang in the air for a moment, their rhythm predictable playing off the wooden slats of the tracks and the large gravel that lay between them.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” I asked, the question not aimed at anyone in particular.

“He visited us for Thanksgiving,” Selina answered first.

“He sent me a letter the year I earned my bachelor’s.” Pam said.

I nearly tripped on a stone underfoot but righted myself before I spoke. “He left town and never came back, so I never saw him after high school.”

We all waited for Bruce to answer. It took nearly another half mile. “We spoke two days before it happened.”

I glanced back over my shoulder and watched Selina take his hand in hers. “You never told me that.”

“He called me on the phone, as he often did,” Bruce said. “Told me he was in the thick of a case but wanted to invite me fishing after it was done.”

“Fishing?” Selina almost laughed. “Where?”

“Virginia.”

Pam’s pace slowed behind me.

“It’s why I set the funeral here,” Bruce explained. “I think he figured it was time for him to come home, finally, even just for a visit. So I made sure he did.”

None of us spoke for a long while after that. We simply walked. But eventually I did feel Pam’s hand find its way into my own, just as Selina was holding Bruce’s.

We didn’t stop until we reached the river. Really, the others didn’t stop there, either, but I did. I froze atop the bank overlooking the water, my legs seeming to abandon my command. This forced Pam to stop beside me.

“I was upset with you,” she muttered. “My waist was free but I didn’t let you take it.”

“What?”

“I should have hung onto you from the beginning,” Pam told me. “You needed me, and I was almost too late.” She squeezed my hand. “I’ve got you this time.”

Those were the magic words that seemed to unlock my legs.

Bruce stopped just short of the water’s edge, hoisting Selina up into a fireman’s carry before wading in.

Pam took the lead for me, discarding her shoes and holding them in her free hand. She beckoned me forward.

“You still saved me in the end, remember?”

“How could I forget?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. I'm fundamentally tired. I sincerely appreciate your continued support for me and this story. Hope you enjoy the conclusion :)

In all the years since, I’d never gone back. None of us had, I don’t think. Simply wasn’t a time or place worth revisiting. And, I mean, I can only speak for myself here, but seeing as how a thing like that was somethin’ you never forgot, in a lot of ways it felt like I was stuck there anyhow. In that clearing…just out of the woods…just off the train tracks and the dirt road. I grew up, but a part of my stayed there, and I’m thinking I’m not the only one that felt that way.

Looking at it now, it seemed the same as we’d left it all those years ago. My nightmares hadn’t lied to me. Though, seeing it in the light of day with some, uh, perspective on my side was a strange feeling. A sorta cold crept into my chest, spreading outward to my limbs and then my fingers. Pam was still holding my hand, but I couldn’t really feel her, everyone seemed very far away.

“Do think Harvey felt like a murderer?” Bruce asked, breaking a silence that felt both reverent and suffocating.

“Why would he?” Selina asked.

Bruce shrugged. “You know how he took the whole world on his shoulders.”

My eyes slowly swept my surroundings, trailing from the old tree to the tall grass, then down to the creek beyond all of it. The creek that held our secret so serenely. My gaze then drifted to Pam, whose jaw was set beside me, eyes trained on a spot just in front of her, one that held no meaning for me—not yet, anyway. I could see Pam plain as day, beautiful beyond belief, tall, strong, confident…but Pam was not here with us. In that moment, she was as far away as Harvey, lost in her remembering.

“They didn’t burn witches in Salem,” Pam said, as Jack came closer with the gasoline. “That’s a myth.”

He kept the gun pointed at us while unscrewing the cap with his free hand. “Then let’s re-write some history.” He grinned wildly at his own joke, always so pleased with himself. “Take your hat off, Pammy.” He said again, somehow more threatening this time.

Pam shrugged, though her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Jack, but I suppose you’ll have to kill me.”

She was egging him on, I couldn’t believe it. I knew the only reason she was being this stupid was she had no idea the evil he was truly capable of. She hadn’t seen it yet, not really. Bullying and burning someone alive were two very different leagues of depravity, but after he showed me the refrigerator, I knew Jack was prepared to make that jump.

“Pamela, please,” a tear ran down my face. I only used her full name when I really needed her to listen. “Just take it off.” This wasn’t the moment for her to be proud.

Pam looked at me then, her eyes boring into mine as she studied me, stared into what felt like my soul for some answer I was evidently giving her. I think she saw my fear then. My bone chilling, stomach turning, heart racing fear.

…And so she obeyed. She took her hat off, and as she did, those breathtaking green eyes of hers sparkled with tears of her own.

Only after thinking on it for a long time—seeing those haunted eyes every night when I closed my own for years after the fact—did I realize, in that moment, she expected to die. Perhaps she’d expected it since the moment Jack had appeared in the clearing with the gun. After all, she hadn’t known Bruce had brought a gun. She’d thought we were all defenseless, knew she would be the first to go based on the intensity of Jack’s hatred for her, and had accepted that. She’d just wanted it to be on her terms. Pam had wanted to die—at 14—with as much dignity as she could muster. She’d wanted to die wearing her hat, her cloak of invisibility, her armor against a dangerous and unjust world. And she’d taken it off for me. Because I’d asked her to. Because she hadn’t wanted me to blame myself when she inevitably burned. She loved me that much, even then.

And yet, I hadn’t loved her enough to save her.

Harvey had.

Jack tipped the can once Pam’s bare head was revealed, dousing her beautiful red curls in the viscous yellow liquid that would be her undoing.

And that’s when Harvey moved. Almost quicker than I could track. He leapt at Jack, tackling him onto the ground, the rest of the gas can spilling over them as they wrestled for the gun on the grass.

For a split second, Jack had a good enough hold on it to pull the trigger, the bullet burrying itself harmlessly in the tree above them. Though the shot rang out so close to Harvey’s ear that he was disoriented for long enough for Jack to grab the lighter.

I’ll never forget the spark. And the scream, the blood curdling scream that erupted from deep within Harvey’s throat as his ear burned.

Jack paused in his struggle for the gun, engrossed in the flames, a smile licking at the corner of his lips. And I moved. Slowly, it felt like. I leaned over, and suddenly the gun was mine.

If I’m being honest, it didn’t feel real. None of it. Not the weight of the gun in my hand, nor the pressure of my finger on the trigger. But the bullet was real, as was the look of surprise on Jack’s face as he clutched his chest, blood spurting out from between his fingers.

Pam didn’t wait for me to empty the clip before ripping her shirt off from underneath her overalls and tackling Harvey with it, stifling the fire that was moving into his hair.

I’d only fired BB guns before, but this really didn’t feel much different. I pulled the trigger again, and again, and again, even though there were only two more bullets left in the clip. The gun clicked impotently after it was already over, still aimed at Jack. My victim.

Harvey sobbed while Pam held him, rocking gently like she had with me on that rock only hours earlier. Bruce and Selina simply stood, eyes wide as Jack choked on the blood that had seeped into his lungs. He didn’t watch me as he died, didn’t look at the gun. Instead, he stared at Pam, her green reflecting in his diminishing gaze. The sight he’d craved so badly…his last.

The stream bubbled peacefully in the background, the only sound besides Jack’s desperate gurgling and Harvey’s whimpering. My heart didn’t beat. It and my mind stayed quiet, the scene settling heavy around me, like fog rolling in thick on the river.

It was over. Just like that, Jack was dead, and I was standing there holding the gun, smoke still twisting off the muzzle.

“Well, good afternoon, folks. What brings ya all the way out here?”

The voice woke me from my memories. I was a woman again. The blood washed from my hands, but still staining my soul.

We all stiffened as Eddie took a step closer, inviting himself into our circle.

“I understand the urge to get outta town, can be awfully stifling sometimes,” he continued. “But this is an awful long walk, especially in church clothes.”

“Yes, well,” Selina took the reins. “We were just reminiscing. Been a while since we’ve been home, and can’t imagine when we’re coming back.”

“Odd place ta reminisce…” Eddie was wearing a sort of half-cocked smile. “A boy died out here, ya know, years back—decades, at this point. Jack Kerr. Ya’ll remember that little tragedy?”

“I’d hardly characterize it as a tragedy,” Pam said. “And I thought he ran away. Last I heard no one had ever found a body.”

“Oh…” Eddie put his foot up on an old stump. “I did.” Again, he seemed awfully satisfied with himself, and I felt my blood run cold in my veins. “Yeah…” he whistled. “Jack Kerr. Body was in better shape than I thought it might be for how long he’d been gone. See, I found him sealed into an old refrigerator down stream there.” He nodded down river. “Seemed he’d been buried in it a little too close to the river bank. The water flooded, and he resurfaced.”

We were all a little lost for words, so Bruce took over. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply…”

Selina squeezed his arm. Hard. And he shut his mouth.

That didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, who took his foot off the stump, planting himself on the ground with one hand on his belt. “Oh, calm down, Mr. Wayne. Seemed all his injuries were self-inflicted.”

Pam’s eyebrow raised at that, and we looked at each other questioningly.

“Yeah, see, his body wasn’t the only set of remains we found in that refrigerator,” Eddie went on. “We found animal bones too—tons of em’. Seemed the little psycho considered himself a scientist.”

“So, what,” Pam interjected—she couldn’t help herself. “He was experimenting on animals in there and just…shut himself in with them? Is that your theory?”

“Well…it would be…if not for the bullet holes,” Eddie grinned. “But wouldn’t you know, I got them bullets tested down at a fancy lab in DC, and you know what they told me?”

“What?” I breathed.

“Turned out they were shot from a gun that Jack’s daddy owned.” Eddie told us. “Boys that age, especially violent ones, they can’t be trusted with weapons. Poor boy unloaded three bullets in himself then headed right for the fridge, shutting himself inside, never to be seen again.”

“And then he—what—buried himself, too?”

I really wanted to kick Pam right then.

Eddie just shrugged. “Unless you got a better explanation.” He looked at her, silently imploring her to take what he was offering.

Pam stood thinking for a moment. “No, I guess…maybe he dug the hole first, put the fridge down there, shot himself, shut himself in, then the water covered the hole with mud itself afterward.”

Selina nodded fervently. “That sounds like something Jack would do.”

I found my head bobbing in agreement.

“I called it in accident,” Eddie concluded. “Me n’ my deputy buried him on his family’s land. Sad thing is, nobody came to the funeral. Not a soul.”

“Rest in peace,” Bruce offered, somehow maintaining his steely expression.

“Mmm…” Eddie nodded, that smirk still dancing on his lips. “Amen.”

I’d never thought’a friendships as being ‘strategic’, but on the silent walk back, I just thanked God I knew Eddie Nygma. And maybe even thanked him that Eddie had a secret while I was at it.

We spent the rest of the day a little shell shocked, I think. We drank quietly, only after I’d closed my diner to the public.

“Shot himself, then closed himself in a refrigerator,” Bruce mumbled, the sound barely escaping the brim of his glass. “What are the chances.”

“A miracle,” Selina half laughed, downing her shot.

“Hallelujah,” Pam joked.

I saw a need, and topped their glasses off, doing what I could to fill what felt like a void in us.

“I guess we can…let him go,” Bruce said.

“Who?” I asked, hoping he didn’t mean Harvey just yet.

“Jack,” he answered. “I don’t think he has to live in us any longer. Him, that day, that place, this town. None of it. I want to let it all go. I want to leave and I don’t want to come back this time.”

Selina nodded in solemn agreement.

I watched her closely, but Pam didn’t say anything, just drank.

They left not long afterward—Bruce and Selina—telling us they’d be leaving first thing in the morning, so this was goodbye.

 _Forever_ …was all I could think.

Feisty, fierce, scrappy, outspoken, ill-tempered, Selina Kyle. And strong, brave, stoic, silently-tortured Bruce Wayne. They walked out of my diner and back out of my life as quickly as they’d re-entered it. I didn’t have the words to give them. Couldn’t show them all they’d written on my heart. So I simply let them go with hugs, kisses, and promises to write, maybe call.

Pam walked me back home, kissing me once we were safely inside the doorway.

But a panic started to rise in my chest and I pushed—well, more like shoved—her away from me. “No!” I said, startling her. “No, no, I don’t wanna do this again. You’re leaving too!”

Pam seemed a bit taken aback by my ferocity. “Harley, yes, this—this place isn’t my home anymore. I made a life for myself elsewhere, one I’m once again happy to share with you, if you’d like.”

“So what? You want me to just leave everything behind? My business, my home, my community, just because our friend died and you miraculously decided to waltz back into my life for a few days?”

Pam stayed a safe distance away from me, her mouth slightly agape, almost like she was grasping for the right words. Finally, she landed on. “No. I’m not doing this again. It hurt me too bad the first time.” She had her hand on my doorknob. “I’m not 18 anymore. I’m not going to beg. You may have gotten away with murder, Harleen, but as long as you stay here, you’ll remain haunted by your past—your violence and your mistakes and your _shame_. I refuse to live in mine any longer.”

The screen door shook on its hinges as it slammed behind her, and I shook with it.

 _Fuck you!_ I wanted to scream, as much at myself as at her.

I was so tired of being left behind. So tired of being forgotten. Left in the past with Castle Rock and Jack and the refrigerator and even Harvey, now. I didn’t want to be buried here. Didn’t want to join them all—my parents and the rest—buried within city limits. Another forgotten story of small-town America.

I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

The next morning dawned a bit earlier than I appreciated. I opened my eyes, squinting against the morning sun, and gradually scanned my surroundings, trying to find my bearings.

The first thing I noticed was I was still dressed in my mourners’ clothes, shoes and all. My face was puffy from tears and…my suitcase lay open at the foot of my bed. Packed.

 _Pam_.

My attention shot to my clock.

_Shit! Her train was probably about to leave!_

I jumped out of bed, not bothering to change my clothes, there simply wasn’t enough time, slipped my shoes on and zipped up my suitcase. I was out the door a minute later, not even allowing myself a glance back.

I must have looked a sight, sprinting down main street in my black dress and converse tennis shoes, dragging my suitcase behind me.

“Where’s the fire, Harl?” Eddie had pulled up beside me in his squad car.

“Train station!” I yelled, not stopping. “Pam’s gonna leave again and I just can’t stand it, Ed. I’m going with her!”

He checked his watch. “Well, you ain’t gonna make it on foot. She’s on the 8am outta here. Come on, hop in!”

He didn’t question me. Not for a second. Didn’t ask a single follow up besides, “You got a ticket?”

“Shit!” I cursed, lifting my foot to kick his dashboard.

“Hey, hey, come on now, calm down. I can take care of that, don’t you worry,” he assured me, pulling up at the train station and yanking my suitcase from the middle seat.

Steam was already billowing from the locomotive, the whistle ringing out just as we jogged onto the platform.

“Hey!” Eddie shouted at the conductor. “Now hold on just a minute,” he held up his badge. “You’re missing a passenger.”

“No, sir,” the conductor disagreed. “Stubs say everyone’s accounted for.”

“Well, this one here needs to board on official sheriff business,” Eddie told him. “It’s a matter of life and death, I’m afraid. You don’t want to impede an official investigation, do you?”

“Uh…no sir…”

“Good. Now open the doors.”

The conductor obeyed, and I could now see inside the passenger section. I turned to Eddie, breathing heavily from the exertion and the adrenaline. “I’m scared.”

He smiled wryly, “Me too, doll. Now get up on outta here. Castle Rock ain’t no place for queers, me and you both know that.”

I laughed. “I want a Christmas card when you finally find the man of your dreams.”

“You strike a hard bargain.” He gave an encouraging push. “We’ll manage without you.”

I stepped up off the platform and into the cabin. “You’ll make sure everybody gets fed?”

Eddie nodded. “And no one else gets murdered, you have my word.”

The whistle rang out again and the doors closed. The land shifted and Castle Rock chugged into my past.

I steadied myself, finding my footing and attempting to quiet the canaries in my stomach. Then I turned, walking slowly up the aisle, peering at each passenger, until I came across a redhead with her nose buried in a book.

I cleared me throat. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”


End file.
